Chapter Seventeen
Raven
I stood by the fridge and unloaded bags of groceries. One of Enzo’s men had taken my grocery list and picked up what I needed. I’d just set the bottle of ketchup down when the door slammed. I jumped, almost hitting my head on the top of the fridge. Turning around, I saw Enzo standing in the doorway.
“What the hell?!” I snapped.
“We’re getting married.”
I opened my mouth and closed it again. Open. Close. Like a fish trying to get water. What the fuck did he just say to me?
“Excuse me?” I must have misheard him. That’s what it is. I’ve been cooped up in this apartment so long, I’m hearing things.
“Pack a bag. We’re leaving tomorrow morning,” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest, and if I wasn’t so shocked by his words, I might be able to admire how damn good the veins in his forearms looked right now.
I blinked a few times to clear my head. Focus, Raven, this man just said we’re getting married. “I’m not getting married to you. Are you out of your mind?!” I said, finally finding my voice. I never wanted to get married, much less to someone I barely knew.
“It wasn’t a question, and if you want this little situation to get handled, then you will need a ring on your finger.”
How the hell would getting married right now help my situation? The Irish could be storming into the brothel any day now to try to take my girls and he wanted to throw a wedding?
“I never asked for your help,” I reminded him.
“You didn’t have to. Pack a bag.”
He turned to walk away and I followed after him. “How is getting married supposed to help my situation?” I followed him into his office where he sat down at the desk.
“If we’re married, you have a level of protection with Cosa Nostra. You’re considered one of our own, and we take care of our own. Which means they’ll back me up when it comes to making sure the Irish keep their greedy hands off of your brothel.”
I crossed my arms over my chest as I allowed everything to sink in. I didn’t want to get married, but that was a small price to pay to make sure my girls were taken care of. I couldn’t imagine them getting taken just because I refused to put a ring on my finger.
“So what happens after the Irish are taken care of? We get divorced?”
Enzo shook his head. “Catholics don’t get divorced.”
Anger took over my body. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m going to be married to you forever? You think I’m going to live here like some housewife?”
He didn’t respond, just stared at me with an expression I was unable to read. I turned and started to walk out of the office. I was barely holding on to my temper.
“Pack a bag,” he repeated. I flipped him the bird before slamming the door to his office. I felt like an angry child, but I didn’t care. This was the rest of my life he was talking about. I sat at the kitchen island with my hands on my head. Was I really going to do this? Get married to a stranger so that I could save the brothel? I didn’t really have a choice at this point. Enzo would marry me anyways, even if it meant paying someone to file the paperwork and forging my signature. I had never before imagined a wedding day because I never imagined getting married. Women like me didn’t get married. That was for women who grew up with two parents and a white picket fence, not me, who bounced from foster home to foster home.
If I really had to imagine myself at a wedding ceremony, I’d imagine that Erica and the other girls from the house and Toby would be there. Those were the only people I cared about, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t a real wedding anyways. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. If I could risk my life counting cards, then I could suck it up and marry Enzo.
*****
“Where are we going?” I asked as we waited in line at the airport.
“To get married,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Wow, thanks.”
His lips lifted into the hint of a smile. “We’re going somewhere you’ve never been.”
“Well, considering I’ve barely left New York besides to smuggle drugs, that leaves a lot of options.”
The older woman in front us turned around to stare at me.
“Can I help you?” I barked. She quickly turned back around.